Developing a Reputation
by Sara Winters
Summary: The life of Hermione Granger was safe, ordered...and predictably boring. Until a challenge from Harry Potter got under her skin. AU short story connected to Free Will and Fate.
1. The Dare

_Author's Note: To avoid confusion, this is a short backstory to my longer AU fic, Free Will and Fate. If you haven't read it, a few of the relationships here may seem odd. If you plan to read Free Will and Fate, this story contains spoilers through the "Truth and Consequences" chapter._

_

* * *

_Hermione frowned as she watched her queen get bludgeoned into dust by Harry's knight. "Barbaric game," she mumbled. She looked up from the carnage to see her boyfriend smiling, the light from the nearby fire twinkling in his bright green eyes. She knew that look. He was going to gloat. Again.

"You wouldn't say that if you ever won," Harry said, repressed laughter coloring his voice.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "That's not true," she said. She picked up her two remaining pieces and pitched them back into the bag. "Wizard chess is just a pointless exhibition of violence, whereas _real_ chess—"

"This is real chess," Harry interrupted. "The violence is just to give the game a little more excitement."

Hermione picked up her wand and began repairing her broken pieces. "Right," she said between spells. Sarcasm didn't come to her naturally, but there were times the harsh tone seemed to fit a conversation perfectly. "It's there purely to distract real players from strategy."

Harry laughed again. Much as she loved him, even that sound could irritate her. Especially when it was directed at her instead of along with her. "Don't you mean, because you can't focus, you automatically dismiss it as beneath you?"

Hermione's mouth dropped open. "No! That's not what I meant at all."

"Could've fooled me," Harry said. "Your strategy doesn't suffer because the pieces get broken, it's because you don't know how to adapt your thinking. You play the same way every time. That's why I always beat you. If you learned to adjust how you look at the game—"

"I don't see what good that would do." Hermione punctuated this by picking up the game board and folding it shut with a resounding slap. "I read a book on all the best strategies used to win chess in history and—"

"And it never occurred to you that you could deviate from that even if the circumstances make it necessary," Harry said. Hermione frowned. "There's more to life than what's in a book, Hermione. If you could pull yourself out of the safe little world you've set up, you'll find that those of us who don't always follow prescribed paths manage to get things done. We even enjoy ourselves from time to time."

She folded her arms across her chest. "I resent that, Harry. I am perfectly capable of doing something outside of the rules."

"Writing an essay longer than what the professor asked for doesn't count."

Hermione shot him a dirty look. He would make being dedicated to your studies sound like a bad thing. "Just because I haven't descended to delinquent rule-breaking as often as you or Draco does not mean I can't adjust my thinking. But rules are there for a reason. If there weren't rules—"

"Chaos would descend on the world, society would cease to function and you, Hermione Granger, would actually have to think about the game instead of letting someone else dictate to you how it should be played," he said. "Face it, you're stuck in your rule-bound world. One where everything can be predicted and plotted. You wouldn't have it another way."

"That's pretty harsh, Harry," she said in a soft voice.

"I'm sorry if I sounded mean." He reached out a hand and stroked her cheek softly, smiling faintly as she leaned into his touch. "I'm teasing you. I just don't think you'd be able to handle it if the world didn't run on a predictable track. Really, imagine the shock you'll get when we're out of Hogwarts and the rest of world is nothing like you've read."

"I'm not a small child, Harry. I can function in the real world," Hermione said, her voice rising in pitch.

"Of course you can, but—"

"And I can break rules without my world becoming a dysfunctional ruin."

Harry stared at her a minute before saying, "Prove it."

"What?"

"You heard me," he said. "Break a rule. Any rule." Harry paused as a thought occurred to him. He grinned. "No. One that would get you detention if you were caught."

Hermione gasped. He couldn't be serious. No, he could. He would do something like that. "That was hardly the point I was trying to make. I was merely stating that I don't live in the boring world you've got me painted into."

Harry sat there watching her, a smug expression on his handsome face.

"Fine!" she screamed at him. She lowered her voice when she realized she'd attracted the attention of half the students in the crowded common room. Hermione narrowed her eyes and frowned. He knew just how to get under her skin. Even with a juvenile dare. "I'll do it. I'll do it tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" he asked. "Why not now? It's still early."

"No, because I have to—" She broke off abruptly. She didn't have to finish her statement. He knew purely from her blush of embarrassment that she'd been about to say _plan_.

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked. "I have a feeling you'll need help with this."

Hermione finished stuffing the chess pieces back into the bag and pulled the drawstring, avoiding his knowing gaze as she thought over her options. She could just tell him she was going to break a rule and then hide out in the library for a few hours until a sufficient amount of time had passed. No, that wouldn't work. Harry would see through it easily. Not only had she never been good at lying to him, he'd probably check the library for her first. Not that she was predictable, he just knew she would be comfortable there. Plus, he'd probably require some kind of proof. She sighed. Maybe he'd even want to watch. So what to do?

"You know, Hermione, you don't have to do this." She looked up as Harry interrupted her thoughts. "Just admit that you can't force yourself to change and I'll leave you alone." He smiled. "It's okay if you can't, you know."

Her eyes narrowed at his condescending tone. "I'm capable of anything you are," she said. "Tomorrow morning."

"Yes? Tomorrow morning?"

"I'm going to skip our first class."

An immediate burst of loud laughter from Harry was not what she had been expecting to hear. She had expected his congratulations on her idea, or at the very least, a wish for luck. He let his laugh die down into a low chuckle before looking her deep in the eyes. He grew quiet as he watched her. Then he burst into laughter again, holding his side as it began to cramp.

"You're impossible!" she shouted. Grabbing the bag of chess pieces and the board from the table, Hermione got up and stalked across the room to return the set to Ron. She threw them onto his lap without a word and turned to storm upstairs to her dorm; a cloud of bushy hair slapped Ron in the face as she went. Harry stood at the foot of the stairs blocking her way, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Out of my way or I'll hex you." Hermione pulled out her wand before Harry could take a breath. "Don't think I won't."

"No, Hermione. That's one rule I'm sure you won't break." He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her closer, still smiling faintly as he looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry I laughed," he said. "I just can't imagine you skipping class. Especially with exams a little over a month away. Professor Flitwick would go into shock if someone even suggested you might."

She crossed her arms and stepped back from him. "That's why it's the perfect rule for me to break. So you can see I'm not stuck in my own little world."

"That's not what I meant, Hermione." Harry glanced up as two other students indicated they wanted to use the stairs. He steered Hermione to the side and continued. "You don't have to actually break a rule. I just think you need to loosen up your standards a bit. Learn to go about life with a little less control. I don't want you to do something that will hurt that perfect record of yours."

"Backing out of it now that you know I'm serious?" she asked. "Afraid I'll prove you wrong, Potter?"

He smirked. "Hardly. I just don't want you getting in over your head."

"And taking you on is getting in over my head, is it?"

Harry leaned closer and planted a soft, brief kiss on her lips. Then another. "You discovered that last year, didn't you?"

Hermione felt her face flush with warmth and turned her eyes away from Harry's for a few seconds. He would remind her of how she'd impulsively initiated their first kiss then run away and hid when he'd kissed her back. The story never failed to amuse him. She let her eyes return to his face. "I can do this, whether you believe it or not."

"I believe you can do anything you put your mind to, Hermione. It's whether you'll let yourself that's at issue." He shrugged. "I don't want to see you in serious trouble. How about you just come to class late instead? Professor Flitwick likes you. That probably won't even rate a detention for you."

"No. I'm going to do this properly," she said. "That way you can't say I still followed a rule or bent it or whatever." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "Then you'll owe me an apology."

He laughed. "I'll also owe Draco five Galleons. He'll never believe it when I tell him."

Hermione's eyes opened wide in alarm. "Oh, you can't tell anyone you've dared me to do this, not even your obnoxious best friend." She smiled. "It would take all the fun out of it."

"Rule-breaking? Fun?" He stared at Hermione, his expression a mixture of amusement and mild confusion. "If I didn't know you—and the abysmal way you play chess—so well, I might think you're a different person." Harry jumped back just in time to avoid the open palm headed towards his face. He grabbed Hermione before she could come in for another slap and kissed her again, holding her until she stopped fighting him. She was still frowning when he pulled away.

"You're really going to do this, aren't you?"

"Yes," she responded. "You're not going to talk me out of it now that you've challenged me."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Harry said with a sigh. "Fine. I'm doing it with you." At her cross look, he added, "So you can have someone to blame when you get caught. Tell the professor I asked you to help me with something and we lost track of time. He'll believe it from you and you won't get punished."

She shook her head. "That sounds too easy. Besides, I'm supposed to do this on my own."

"You're doing it because of me," he said. "At least let me help. Besides, I've got to see this new Hermione Granger in action." He smiled and tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. "I wonder if she's as good a kisser."

"Harry!" Another blush quickly colored her face.

"Are we doing this?" he asked.

Hermione crossed her arms and sucked the corner of her bottom lip into her mouth, chewing on it as she considered her options. After a few long moments, she said, "Yes." She motioned to the spot in front of the fireplace where they'd been playing chess. "I don't want to get in trouble and I think I know how to accomplish that. Come over here and I'll tell you the plan."


	2. The Plan

Harry woke the next morning a lot earlier than normal. So early, in fact, that he was able to see a house-elf tending the fire that kept away the chill of the late spring morning. He had spent the night tossing and turning, wondering what exactly he had gotten himself into with Hermione. Would she really do it? It was silly. He couldn't believe she'd actually taken him seriously. All he'd wanted her to do was loosen up, particularly around him. He'd known what he was getting into once his relationship with the school's biggest bookworm went beyond friendship, but he had expected that a closer connection with someone whose name wasn't in one of her textbooks would open her up to possibilities about a lot of other things. Namely, beginning to live her life before she submitted herself to the endless cycle of work most adults enslaved themselves to. He wasn't looking for a totally different girlfriend, just one who was a little easier to be with.

He pulled the covers over his head and sighed. If getting Hermione Granger to loosen up a little was going to be his mission in life, he had better prepare himself for disappointment. Regardless of how she'd reacted when he'd baited her the night before, Harry knew she'd change her mind once she calmed down. Not only would she see reason, she'd probably be upset with him for even letting her come up with that ridiculous plan before they'd gone to bed. Still, if it worked, it would be something to try every once in a while if they needed a break. Maybe if they spent enough time alone together… Harry grinned, in spite of the improbability of his next thought.

Snuggling deeper into his pillow, Harry closed his eyes and began dreaming of a changed girlfriend, one who was quite determined to convince him that she was _anything_ but boring.

* * *

Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror over the sink and frowned. Her eyes looked too bright. More redness? No. Bigger bags. She grabbed the compact Parvati had left next to the sink and painted faint blue smudges under her eyes, giving them the appearance that she hadn't slept in days.

She stepped back from the mirror, removed it to rest against the sink and flicked her wand quickly to enlarge it. Not too bad, but still not right. Hermione pushed one of her knee socks down on one leg until it bunched loosely around one ankle. Then she removed her tie and untied and retied the knot, swirling it around quickly until it looked like she'd let Harry's five-year-old sister tie it for her. Then, sighing, she took her brush and attacked her curly hair, teasing it until it looked bushier than it had in years. Since long before she'd learned how to mostly tame it. Hermione took one last look at her reflection, a frown crossing the normally morning-ready face. Perfect. It would fool anyone.

* * *

"Harry! Harry, wake up!" The covers flew back from the bed and Ron stood over Harry, reaching to shove him on the shoulder again if he didn't move. As the sunlight reached his face, Harry moaned and turned into his pillow, halfheartedly groping for his wand in case Ron didn't get the hint. "Honestly, Harry. You heard Professor McGonagall last time. If you miss another class, she'll give you a week's detention." He sighed as Harry didn't move. "Breakfast will be over in twenty minutes. If you hurry and get dressed, you can still grab some toast or something."

Harry mumbled into his pillow. He reached for his blanket and pulled it back over his head and bare torso again.

"What?" Ron reached for the blanket and jumped when Harry shot up in bed, clutching his wand by the wrong end. He quickly turned it around and pointed it at his roommate.

"Merlin's sake, Ron! Let me sleep." He fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes, wand still pointing in the air.

"Harry, you know you're going to get miss a lot in class this morning."

He opened one eye. "Since when do you care about what happens in class?" At Ron's frown he said, "I'm sick, okay? Professor Flitwick will let me make it up. Now can you please leave me alone?"

"If you're sick, you should go to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey—"

"Ron! Leave. Me. Alone." Though his eyes were closed, Harry's wand remained trained firmly on Ron. "I'm so dizzy I can barely stand up now, let alone walk all the way down to the hospital wing. I'll get up later."

Brows raised in surprise, Ron pulled the curtain closed around the bed and left, just in time to miss the low chuckle from Harry. He put his wand down next to his glasses and settled back under the covers to get back to his dream. Hermione had been just about to show him how much she liked her birthday gift, once he helped her with that tricky zipper.

* * *

"We should do something," Lavender said. She picked up a piece of toast and pointed it at Hermione before taking a bite. "You know how she gets when she has to miss something."

"It's not like she can't make it up," Parvati replied. "She's practically helping teach half our classes anyway."

"I can hear you," Hermione said in a weak voice. She cleared her throat and raised her head, squinting at the bright light as she addressed her roommates. "There's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine. Matter of fact, I'm going to eat." Hermione grabbed a piece of bacon from a tray and brought it close to her mouth before lowering it to the empty plate in front of her and groaning. She pushed the plate to the center of the table and put her head down again, moaning and clutching her stomach.

"Hermione, you don't have to push yourself like this," Lavender said. She reached across the table and touched Hermione's hand. Her skin was cold. "Let one of us take you to the hospital wing."

Hermione raised her head again and frowned. "No, I can't let you go to class late. I'll be fine." She used both hands to push herself into a sitting position and took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. "I'll be fine. I can go to class like this. It'll pass."

"No, you'll pass out if you don't take care of yourself," Parvati responded. "Didn't Madam Pomfrey tell you not to keep up your crazy class schedule after you passed out last year?"

Hermione pouted. "Yes, but—"

"And didn't you promise you'd get more rest and not push yourself too hard?" Lavender asked.

"Well, yes, but—"

"Didn't you promise your parents you'd never force yourself to go to class when you didn't feel well?" Parvati asked.

Hermione fought the sudden urge to smile. They really did care if she wasn't well. "Yes," she said in a small voice. "I just don't want to miss anything."

"We'll take notes for you," Parvati said. Lavender raised one eyebrow and mouthed w_e?_ before smiling as Hermione looked at her.

"I'll walk you to the hospital wing. It won't be a problem."

"No," Hermione said. She cleared her throat and tried to sound stronger. "I can—I can make it on my own. It's not that far." She reached down and grabbed her overstuffed bag from under the table. "Can you tell Professor Flitwick? I know Madam Pomfrey will probably just make me sleep."

Both girls nodded and watched as Hermione walked away from the table, the weight of her bag forcing her to lean heavily to one side as she lumbered through the door and towards the stairs.


	3. Execution

Hermione began giggling the minute she'd made it inside her dorm room. It was no wonder Harry and Draco didn't mind getting in trouble all the time. The rush was incredible. An hour to do nothing at all but rest. Or go through that Transfiguration book she'd gotten from the library the day before. Or finish her Arithmancy essay three days early. With all the possibilities of what to do with the time, it was a wonder she hadn't thought to skip classes more often. Normally when she felt tired, Madam Pomfrey would just make her sleep in the hospital wing and her professors would understand. She'd never considered not going to class simply to do something more enjoyable with her time. She would have to do it more often. That, Hermione knew, was a big enough change in her perspective for Harry to appreciate it.

Grinning, she headed to the bathroom to make herself presentable. There was no way she'd go see Harry looking like the walking dead.

* * *

"I hope she's going to be okay," Lavender said. "I've never seen her look that bad, even when her schedule was all over the place last year."

"Well, she was doing all those classes most of last year, but this year she's got Harry." Parvati smiled knowingly. "He's the only person who can get her out of the library and into…other things." She smiled and after a moment, both girls giggled. "I don't blame her for staying up half the night studying if Harry keeps her distracted during the day. I'd probably get nothing done."

Lavender nodded as she and Parvati approached the line outside the Charms classroom. "She's lucky to have him, but she's paying the price now. I hope it's not serious enough to make her truly sick. She always complains that my notes aren't thorough enough when she's absent."

"She says that about everyone's notes," Parvati remarked. "Don't worry, I'm sure she'll be patched up and flying down here just before the bell. Through sheer willpower alone, she won't stay sick for long."

"Who is sick?" Both girls turned to face Professor McGonagall. She approached them at a brisk pace, an expression of concern on her face. Behind her, Professor Flitwick was in the center of the hall, ushering the students inside.

"Hermione Granger," Lavender answered. "I think she went to the hospital wing."

"You think?" the Headmistress asked. "You didn't make sure?"

Parvati shrugged. "She said she could make it on her own." She glanced at Lavender. "Though she didn't really look well at breakfast. I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Well, yes, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will see to it." McGonagall glanced around the hall briefly before appearing to make up her mind. "I may as well speak to Professor Flitwick about her and then check on her myself. If I know Miss Granger, she'll insist on being allowed to attend class even if she is ill. If whatever she has is contagious—"

"It's not," Parvati said without thinking. Lavender giggled and turned to walked into the classroom. "I—well, I think she's just exhausted herself again," Parvati said quickly before turning to go into class herself.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows briefly at Lavender's strange behavior and followed the girls into the classroom, approaching Professor Flitwick just before he could begin his lecture. "I just received word that Miss Granger may be too ill to attend class. If Poppy tells me what I expect, I won't be allowing her to go to any of her morning classes today. Are there any assignments she needs from you?"

He shook his head. "She turned in her essay yesterday afternoon and I believe she's long since mastered the charms we'll be covering in class today. Give her my well-wishes Minerva."

"Of course," she responded.

"And Mr. Potter as well," he added.

McGonagall had been about to turn away when his words stopped her in her tracks. "Excuse me?"

"Mr. Weasley informs me his roommate was so ill he could barely sit up this morning. I expect he'll be in the hospital wing as well. There must be something going around," Flitwick said. "Would you inform Mr. Potter that he may turn in his essay whenever he feels up to it?"

McGonagall stood stock-still for a moment, letting the information process.

"Minerva?"

"Oh yes, Filius. I'll give him the message." With that, the Headmistress turned and left the classroom, hoping when she entered the hospital wing, her sudden suspicions about the fourth year Gryffindor students would prove baseless.

* * *

Harry smiled as she came closer. Hermione was wearing the lacy black underwear he'd considered buying her from that Muggle shop for her birthday, blushing as she turned to show him how the panties fit in back. She approached the bed and crooked a finger at him, grinning as he shook his head and motioned her closer.

"Harry?"

His eyes widened as she stopped next to the bed. Everything looked so much nicer up close, waiting for his touch.

"Harry?"

He shook his head. He didn't want her to talk, not that she could help her incessant need to fill the space with noise, even in his fantasies. She even managed that same concerned tone in his dream that she normally reserved for homework lectures. A hand grabbed his shoulder and shook hard, startling him out of the dream.

Harry shot up in bed. "I've had enough of this, Ron!" Hermione giggled and took a step back from the bed. Harry opened his eyes slowly and squinted at her. "Oh, it's you."

She shrugged. "If you'd rather it were Ron getting you out of bed, I completely understand. He does have beautiful eyes," she said, giggling as Harry pulled her over to the bed and grabbed her roughly around the middle, tickling her as she struggled.

"Is that how you feel? Prefer his to mine?"

"No!" Hermione screamed and squirmed out of Harry's arms, scooting towards the end of the bed. "Why would I ever prefer anyone to you?"

"I don't know," Harry responded. "Sometimes I think you'd like someone a little more tame."

"That would be boring," she said. "Predictable. I'd rather have a boyfriend who knows just when rules need to be broken."

He lifted one shoulder in a slow shrug, a smile teasing one corner of his mouth. "I don't know, Hermione. You seem like the type who likes to stay in a safe place." Harry reached for the bedside table and groped around for his glasses.

"No, leave them off," she said. "I've never seen you like this."

"Well, I can barely see you at all," Harry said.

"I can fix that." She stood and came closer, sitting just before Harry's pillow. He slid over to make room for her. "Now what were you saying before?"

"That you like boring guys." He frowned. "Maybe even Ron."

"I think I can prove you wrong," she said, leaning over.

"Empty promise," he said just before her lips connected with his. Harry sat up a little straighter and put his arms around her, sighing as she opened her mouth to welcome him. Their tongues connected and she moaned a little in the back of her throat, lifting her hands to run her fingers through his hair slowly. Before Harry could think to pull her onto his lap, Hermione pulled away and smirked at him, flipping her hair back over one shoulder casually.

"I think that proves my point."

Harry smiled and reached for her. She leaned back and shook her head. "But what if I forget? You know how I am. You have to teach me something a few times before it sinks in."

Hermione giggled. "You forget that one and I'll find someone who won't."

Harry responded by pouting and pulling her close. "You wouldn't do that to me," he whispered against her neck. His arms settled around her waist. "You know how miserable I'd be without you." He kissed her neck.

"So what do you want to do?" Hermione asked. "I can't believe we have almost an hour to do anything. Less than that. We need to leave time to convince Madam Pomfrey we didn't feel well this morning."

"I was thinking," Harry began, "a little more of this wouldn't be bad." He kissed the side of her neck again, then repeated it, letting his lips linger on her skin when she moved her head to allow him better access. He pushed her hair out of the way and kissed his way up the column of her neck, smiling briefly as Hermione's breathing quickened. "Then I was thinking, we could do a little of this." A kiss at the base of her throat. Another on her jaw. Harry lowered Hermione to the bed and kissed her cheek. "Then we can go from there," he said just before he kissed her lips.

Seconds later, she pushed him back and sat up in bed, eyes wide. "What do you mean? We can't go from there. What are you talking about?"

Harry sat back and sighed. He'd known he was going too fast. "Relax, Hermione. I just meant kissing."

"We're on your bed, I don't know what you meant." She looked around and gestured at the general area. "This is all improper enough without you talking about—"

"We were just kissing!" He took a deep breath. He hadn't meant to yell at her. "I didn't intend to do more than that. Look, you're still dressed." He glanced down and hurriedly pulled the sheet over his crotch. "I've still got on pajamas. Nothing's going to happen."

"I—okay." She sucked the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed at it nervously. "I just didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"What?" Harry smiled. "That Miss Granger is capable of breaking one of her little rules? Where would I get that impression?"

"Argh!" Hermione stood from the bed and lunged at Harry, giggling as he caught her and pulled her down next to him, before covering her lips with his.

* * *

Professor McGonagall left the hospital wing two minutes after she'd entered it, a frown creasing her brow. There had better be a very good explanation for why two of her students were missing. From the same class. Both with illnesses they should've been seeking medical attention for. Harry Potter, she might have expected this from, with or without sickness as an excuse. But Hermione Granger? Hardly the type to miss class, even when she was unwell. It would take an act of nature to keep that girl from class and even then, she'd have Madam Pomfrey practically dragging her back to a cot until she could be sufficiently cleared. There was something wrong with this entire scenario and if it was what she suspected, both students would be in trouble like they'd never imagined.

McGonagall stepped through the portrait hole and crossed the common room in brisk strides. She went up the stairs, quickly turned, went down the hall and, knocking briefly, entered the dormitory for the fourth year Gryffindor girls. The room was empty, the beds still unmade. She glanced around. An overstuffed bag was sitting at the foot of one of the beds; it had tipped over and one of the books was slipping out. McGonagall picked up the book and flipped open the front cover. On the side, in a small neat script, were the words, _This book belongs to Hermione Granger. Steal or damage it in any way, and I'll put a hex on you an Auror couldn't remove_.

Professor McGonagall closed the book and replaced it in the bag slowly, forcing herself to take a series of deep breaths. Perhaps Hermione had come upstairs to put down her school things before going to the hospital wing and they'd missed each other in transit. Or maybe she'd never had them at all. She hadn't asked Miss Patil or Miss Brown if Hermione had brought her books with her to breakfast. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong this situation. Both of Hermione's roommates had seemed genuinely concerned about her health, but that didn't mean Harry wasn't missing from class for some other reason. Had he stayed behind to care for her? McGonagall turned on her heel quickly and headed for the Gryffindor boys dorm to find answers.

* * *

The crumpled school robes fell to the floor, but neither student paid any attention. Harry was too focused on the way Hermione was unbuttoning her shirt with shaking fingers, exposing her skin as she leaned back. Hermione was distracted by the way Harry's lips and tongue felt on her bare heated skin. And the way his hands squeezed her butt through her uniform skirt. And how delicious it felt when he whispered her name against her skin before pulling her lips down to his.

Hermione sighed into his mouth and edged herself closer to him, as tight as she could squeeze their bodies without pulling back the covers and straddling his lap properly. She had already gone farther, much farther, than she'd intended, but she wouldn't tempt Harry past a point where he could lose control. They were already dangerously close to that edge.

"Harry?" He shook his head and took her lips again, sliding his tongue against hers as he squeezed her breasts. Hermione shuddered and clutched at Harry, sliding her fingers through his hair as he made her moan. It was another minute before she could force herself to separate their mouths again. When she said his name again, Harry responded with a sigh of frustration before he began kissing her neck, squeezing her hips as she tried to speak to him.

"Harry, we should slow down," she whispered. Hermione gasped as his teeth made contact with her skin. Instinctively, she leaned her head back and unbuttoned her shirt more, exposing the rest of her bra. "We should um…ooh."

Harry lifted his mouth and looked up at Hermione, smirking as he took in her dazed expression. "Hermione, you really do have to learn when to stop talking." Before she could argue the point, he sat up suddenly and rolled her onto her back, pinning her beneath him as he claimed her lips again. Seconds later, she stopped struggling beneath him and relaxed the curves of her body into his, wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding her hands over the smooth skin of his back.

She had to admit, there was something to be said for silently enjoying the moment. Especially when Harry slid his hands beneath her skirt and teased her lightly with the tips of his fingers. Hermione closed her eyes and arched her back, moaning into Harry's mouth as they touched. What had she been thinking, waiting so long to try this? This petting thing wasn't so bad. No, not bad at all.

From the other side of the room there was a bang followed by a high-pitched scream and a rush of wind as the curtains around Harry's bed flew the rest of the way open. Both students froze in place and looked over at the doorway. Harry cursed under his breath. Hermione said nothing. Every excuse she had for why they were skipping class, every reason for being in Harry's room, everything she'd been telling herself as to why it was okay to have him touch her this way—all of it flew out of her mind when she saw her Headmistress in the doorway. Even in jest, Harry had been right. The world, her world, was about to disintegrate into ruin.


	4. Aftermath

The march down to the dungeons had been long, and cold for Harry, who'd barely had enough time to slip on a shirt, his glasses and a pair of pants over his pajama bottoms before Professor McGonagall had ordered him downstairs. He'd put on his shoes just before they'd gone through the portrait hole and out into the hall, trying his best not to look at Hermione. He could tell from her labored breathing she was on the verge of a massive crying fit.

They stopped outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and Professor McGonagall knocked once and opened the door, waiting until Professor Snape stopped speaking to his class and acknowledged her at the back of the room. "If you could spare me a few minutes, Severus, there is a matter of student discipline that needs your attention," she said, motioning to the disheveled students behind her. "Now."

Harry looked past the Headmistress to the class, where he immediately spotted Fred and George Weasley sitting near the middle of the room, neither of whom was bothering to hide their wide grins as they took in the situation. With the rest of the class staring openmouthed, some also smiling, Harry knew the story would get around the school before lunchtime. So much for getting away with it without anyone finding out.

"I suppose I can end this lesson early," Snape said slowly. His eyes narrowed on Harry's face and hair before dropping to take in his clothes. He gave Hermione the same slow perusal before clearing his throat and giving his class their homework assignment. "I expect it on my desk no later than noon tomorrow. One letter grade will be deducted for every ten minutes you are late." With those parting words, he joined Professor McGonagall at the back of the classroom and together they exited the dungeon room and headed down the hall to his office, Hermione and Harry keeping pace behind them.

When they had all entered his office, Snape closed and locked the door, turning to face the Headmistress where she stood glaring at his stepson and his girlfriend, both of whom looked as if they were headed for the gallows.

"Dare I ask what happened?" Snape looked over the students again and frowned.

"Professor, I can explain," Hermione said.

"Oh, I don't believe you can come up with a sufficient explanation for this, Miss Granger," McGonagall said, her voice rising with each word. Eyes widening, Snape cast a spell at the door so the conversation would not be overheard. "Do you have any idea how many school rules you have broken? What could've happened?" She turned to Snape and took a deep breath, which did not appear to calm her. "Severus, your stepson and Miss Granger were—were—"

"I can guess, Minerva," he said, looking at the uneven buttoning of Harry's shirt more closely.

"I—yes, well, you can imagine my shock at finding them this morning in Mr. Potter's bed. I can't imagine what they were thinking."

"I can," Snape responded.

Hermione frowned and swiped at her eyes quickly with one sleeve, fighting to hold back her tears. "Professor, we didn't mean—"

"You didn't mean to what, Miss Granger? You didn't mean to pretend to be sick this morning so you could skip class? You didn't mean to worry your roommates?" Her eyes narrowed on the girl's flushed face. "Or you didn't mean to get caught?"

Harry coughed and covered his mouth quickly; he blinked rapidly as his eyes watered.

Professor McGonagall turned to him. "You are developing a reputation for misconduct, Mr. Potter." She frowned as he continued to cough behind his hand. "It is only by your stepfather's leniency that you haven't been punished more severely before now." She nodded at Snape. "I think it best you handle their punishments. If I were to do it, I'd likely make it something…as severely shocking as what I walked in on."

Snape blinked at her statement. "They weren't actually—?"

McGonagall's hand fluttered in front of her throat. "No." She cut her eyes at Hermione who was now weeping. "I suppose they're lucky in that respect. If I hadn't come in when I did, I don't know what I might have walked in on later. Perhaps I should reconsider the Ministry's suggestion of mandatory chastity belts."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. She couldn't imagine them doing that to anyone, not in this century. Harry coughed again and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. There was something wrong. His face was turning red. He wasn't really sick, was he?

"I don't believe we need to try something quite so extreme with these two. They've practically designed their own punishments," Snape said.

Professor McGonagall turned to him, one eyebrow raised in question. "I'm sorry?"

"For a first offence, in Miss Granger's case at least, a verbal warning and a letter to her parents will suffice," Snape said. "I've met Miss Granger's parents and I believe they will do their utmost to stress their…disappointment in the situation, to say nothing of their strong feelings about their daughter's personal relations. I'm not sure anything we could come up with will scare her straight more than that. As for Mr. Potter," he eyed his stepson who stood in the center of the office with one hand over his mouth. "I think Lily will have much the same reaction."

The Headmistress's eyes widened. "Are you suggesting I let them get away with what they've done? What kind of example would that be setting for the other students, Severus?"

"Hogwarts is a relatively small environment, Minerva. I think having all of their classmates know exactly what they were caught doing will be enough punishment for Miss Granger. As for Harry," he turned to his stepson. "His mother and I will deal with him at home. For a very long time." Snape turned back to the Headmistress. "Of course, if you'd like to punish them for any later infractions, I will not object. I'll even design their punishment myself."

Professor McGonagall sighed. She hadn't wanted to be too hard on either of them, but it never would've occurred to her to seek a punishment at the extreme low end of the scale. Not for what she'd seen. "I suppose I can see your point, Severus. Though I do wonder if this will be enough, especially for Mr. Potter."

Snape's eyes narrowed as Harry coughed again, his face going a slightly darker shade of red around his hand. "I'm sure Harry understands the consequences of what he's done today. He will certainly know the full extent of the repercussions once summer break begins."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. They weren't going to do anything to them? "So we're not going to get a detention?" Hermione asked.

"Would you like one?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Well, no, but—"

"Consider yourself lucky this warning is the extent of your punishment, Miss Granger. Though I may be speaking too soon. Professor Snape will be writing to your parents today. You should be thankful it is not me. If I told them what I'd walked in on with any detail, they'd be pulling you out of school before the end of the week."

Hermione swallowed hard, tears welling in her eyes again. She nodded. "It will never happen again."

"See that it doesn't." Professor McGonagall glanced at her watch. "I want you both upstairs, properly dressed and at your next class before the bell. If I hear you are so much as thirty seconds late again, I will not look for a considerably calmer professor to intervene in your punishment. I will handle you myself. Do I make myself clear?"

Both students nodded quickly, Hermione still wiping at her eyes.

"Fine. Upstairs now."

Professor Snape unlocked his door and both of them went into the hall. The office door closed behind them. The moment he heard the sound indicating a spell had sealed the door, Harry burst out laughing.

Hermione rounded on him as they walked, hitting him in the shoulders and back with light slaps. "I don't believe you! I knew you were trying not to laugh in there."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, still chucking. "I couldn't help it. You should've seen the look on your face."

She pouted. "This isn't funny. We could've been expelled."

Harry raised one eyebrow at her. "For a smart girl, I thought you might have figured something out. Most of our professors count you as one of their favorite students. Didn't you get three hundred twelve percent out of a class last year? There's no way Professor McGonagall would expel you after getting caught the first time. Now when we do it again…"

"Harry, no!" Hermione stopped in the hallway, eyes wide. "We can't do this again. We'll…we'll…"

He leaned over and kissed her as she sputtered, smiling when her words hummed to a stop. "We'll take whatever punishment we get," he said, "because every moment before was worth it."


End file.
